Rise of Gotham
by thelazyuncle
Summary: With the death toll constantly rising, Batman finds himself going in circles for finding the source of a designer drug that was first seen in the bowls of Gotham. Six months later with little to follow, the drug circulates into the higher areas leaving both personalities of the vigilant ill at ease. And all while he is left to handle a whimsically cheeky telekinetic. Bruce/OC.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I do not own neither the Batman franchise nor its characters and/or settings. The only thing I own are my OCs and the plot to this story. Everything else belongs to DC.

Mild swearing ahead.

* * *

"An assistant?" Sabrina Wilde frowned, her stare made Claire shift a fraction closer to Bruce. "I didn't know you needed the help. Had I been aware, I could have shipped you a supply within the hour."

Bruce had changed when he was forced to be around other people. Though she wasn't a part of the high society lifestyle, she could tell he wasn't either. He may have been born in it, but by looking at his hands and the way he spoke, he was not comfortable to say the very least. "Miss Wright is very good at what she does, so a replacement won't be necessary. She is an intern, after all, not an assistant."

"Really?!" the woman laughed, her eyes betraying the friendly smile that was bordering on disbelief. "Again, had I known there was an opening, I am absolutely certain my niece would have been an amazing intern, she is the perfect candidate. You've met Amber, right? I believe you two were introduced on the trip in Cancun all those years back! You guys hit it off the moment you met."

"I remember, Mrs. Wilde. Your husband was very... active. As great as your niece was, I doubt she would qualify for Miss Wright's position purely because she was accepted based on her own skills rather than having connections within the enterprise."

"Ex-husband." she corrected, successfully changing the suddenly frosty dynamic, taking a sip of the bubbling gold alcohol from her champagne flute. "When was the last time you spoke with her? She's back from overseas. And, very single."

"Ah, as am I." He chuckled, letting the conversation flow precariously, and Claire almost choked on her own glass of sparkling water at the sound. Both Bruce and Sabrina's focus snapped to her and she sheepishly wiped her mouth, "And I'd like to remain on the market for a while longer, if you don't mind."

Claire felt bad for riling the woman's feathers up, but only after she and her tight-lipped smile were all the way across the room.

"Isn't that a little hypocritical?" she asked, scanning the room over the rim of her glass. She found a group of similar looking, tight faced women standing not too far from a bundle of men laughing. From the way the ladies looked, Claire could guess they were married to the obliviously annoying men. Oblivious because the women were obviously unhappy about being there, probably because they didn't like most of the people they were forced to socialize with. Annoying, because they were loud and testing the waters with one of the female servers.

"What is?" Bruce hummed, following her line of sight. Claire frowned up at him and blew strands of her straightened hair from her face. She wasn't fooled by how lax he seemed, and even if she'd only known him officially for a month, she could tell from long nights with him that his shoulders weren't that loose.

"Saying that I didn't have connections." she clarified, irritability batting at the hair in her eyes, not caring if she managed to mess up her new makeover. The night was halfway over anyway.

She inched closer, lowering her voice, "The only reason I managed to even be here is because Wonder Woman insisted I be by your side. That, my friend, is a connection. And, a solid one at that if I might add." Claire's not-so obvious discretion drew a few eyes, but she doubted anyone could hear her besides Bruce and was fine with letting people's imagination wander and took a step away.

Bruce only grinned, and for a minute it looked much more genuine than the weird, overly flirtatious grins he'd been throwing around so loosely at the event, "Under different circumstances, it is perfectly acceptable. Your circumstance is one of those. Amber's, if I can recall correctly, is one that is privileged and money-driven. Our relationship aside, had we met in different situations, I believe you still would have qualified and won. Neither the letters of recommendation nor your grades were overlooked in selecting our final choice."

Her mouth twitched, fighting the surge of satisfaction wiggling through her. "Well," she paused, drumming her fingers along the glass before ducking her head in a stiff bow, "Thank you, Mr. Wayne for picking me."  
He shrugged and wordlessly finished off the rest of his sparkling cider. She watched curiously as the tall man scanned the room for a server carrying a bottle of non-alcoholic drink he'd been inconspicuously sipping from. Claire, despite her sudden display of manners, snatched the flute from his hands knowing he couldn't escape socializing as Bruce Wayne properly without faking his intoxication. Seeing as this was her fourth time attending one of these events, she made sure Bruce's drink was never empty and by chance it was, it wouldn't be for long. "I'll be back with another drink, so try to avoid people! Be polite and excuse yourself by eyeing a pretty girl."  
She said loudly, already heading to one of the large buffet tables adjacent to them.

Her brown eyes were trained on the table making no attempt to slow down when the occasional person tried to stop her. By now, she knew that most of them were either bored, drunk, or half way there from her other golden opportunities to shadow Bruce on behalf of the absence of his sons plus, as an intern, she was obligated to be where he wanted her. At first she was eager for these things. Eager to see how the other half lived and wasn't disappointed with the fancy halls or even the fancy people that occupied them. Of course, the extravagant decor became to grow duller and duller as she was forced to be around such negative, pampered people and learned to drown out most of the night by sticking by Bruce's side, letting him do all of the talking. Of course, the number of times she had to actually speak were barely enough for her to count on a single hand, and she doubted what she had to say was considered relevant to them. Being polite for the public was an obligation to them and once the niceties were out of the way, people didn't bother to care anymore if they had before. So, she kept to herself and was convincingly playing the role of the timid, unsure of herself intern just trying to get through the night.

Securing the bottle for Bruce, she poured him a glass, and hesitantly eyed the bottle —debating whether or not she should take the whole thing so she wouldn't have to make another trip and risk Bruce not being Bruce— before rigidly turning on her high heels, weaving through the sea of people without the bottle.  
Claire wasn't sure what she was considered in the terms of height. She wasn't tall and she couldn't be considered short either, but she was used to being able to maneuver through crowds with the help of shoulder windows. However, her awkward height advantage was no use in finding Bruce, who'd left the spot she'd last seen him in or he had probably been dragged to somewhere else. Making her night a little harder than what she wanted.

She stood on her tiptoes, hoping to spot the man, but she wobbled and immediately rethought that plan of attack. If Claire couldn't see him, she could sure as heck smell him. A room full of people that either smelled the same or close enough to each other helped eliminate his smell because she was sure no one could emulate the distinct —distinct for her, considering she'd been caught in the middle of both on more than one occasion— smell of gunpowder and the smoke pellets Batman was known to use if you ever encountered him and something else that she couldn't explain. With the amount of fire she'd been under with Batman and the others in her short time of working with them, maybe the gunpowder was a new thing for him.

"Excuse me, Miss." she flinched at the hand waving in her face, forcing her from her thoughts and she directed her focus onto the overly smiley man, who'd gotten in her way.

"Yes?" she smiled tightly, attempting to look over the man's shoulder for Bruce, still nowhere to be seen. Sighing, she shifted her gaze back to the man in front of her. "Can I help you? My drink is losing its bubble."

"Really? I'm sorry! Did I scare you, I'm a little drunk." He snorted, and for the second time that night she felt the need to shift away from someone out of discomfort but now Bruce and Sabrina weren't anywhere to be seen. "Ah! I'm not that drunk." He frowned, apparently noticing her discomfort. "I just wanted to come over and tell you that you are wearing a beautiful dress and that that color complements you. What is that— maroon?"

"Yeah." her grip on the flute relaxed an inch. "My friend picked it out for me tonight, I agree. It is a really beautiful dress, gorgeous if you ask me. But, it's a bit... leggy for my taste." she chuckled, pointing to the slit along the front of her right leg, stopping just beneath the pair of shorts she snuck under her dress.

"No one minds if you show a little skin." His eyes followed the slit and trailed upwards slowly, not bother to stop his obvious leering until she cleared her throat extra loud.

And off she was to go find Bruce.

"It's cold out. So, I mind." she frowned, fighting the urge to throw Bruce's drink in the man's face, but opted not to because she would have to make a third trip back to the table. "I'm here to shadow my boss, so if you'll excuse me." Without another moment to spare, Claire pushed past him into the other direction, ignoring his offer to join him later on.

She mowed through the other side with as much luck as she had before, and even went back between the sides and doubled checked thinking she'd passed Bruce twice.

"Claire!" the man chirped with his arms opened wide for a hug but she just stared at him.

"Bruce? Where have you been?" she glared, handing him the drink, completely forgetting where she was. "I was gone for like a second and you become Batman and vanish into thin freaking air."

Bruce laughed and threw back the drink, quickly placing the empty flute on the tray of a passing server," Miss Wright, may I have this dance?"

"What? Are you drunk?" she whispered, her eyes doubling in size. "Oh my God, who got you drunk? You literally never drink!"

Bruce took her hand and pulled her to a more docile area where couples danced in slow, lulling circles to soft music. They blended well within the modest dance, modest being something the public rarely saw Bruce being. His hands were in a respectful position, one pressed lightly to her waist and the other tucked into her own sweating hands. Her other arm hung awkwardly at her side, unsure if she was supposed to put it on his shoulders. Bruce, sensing her confusion, reached down and guided it to his side and they began to move. He was being gentle rather than the frisky which meant he wasn't drunk and hadn't forgot about her and too much physical contact, but her hand was still balled against his tuxedo jacket.

"I was busy in the bathroom–"

"Ew!" she hissed, stepping closer as another couple rotated near them. "I did not need to know that." She felt his hand squeeze hers, most likely hinting for her to shut up and listen.

"Whatever you think was happening in there didn't." He frowned down at her, forcing her to notice how much taller he was. In her heels, she reached the neck of his bow tie. They gave her a good three almost four inches, but he beat her with him being another head taller. He pulled her in closer, forcing her nose into his chest with his head to her neck. "I got a lead."

"In the bathroom?" she questioned, turning her head to the side. Claire doubted he could see her confusion but her tone said it all. "You're too close, by the way. People are going to start talking."

"Let them talk." He murmured, "Besides, I'm drunk, remember?"

"You're dancing too well for that. Maybe lose the technique and step on my foot or something." she snorted, resting her hand flat against his back. "Bump into someone."

"I will once he leaves."

"Who?"

"Don't turn your head. Keep dancing and wait until we turn." Claire nodded into his chest. And slowly, they rotated. "The server with the red." he whispered, his grip loosened as they began to drag behind, setting their own pace against the slow music.

"That guy is a dealer?" she peeped, glancing up at him with a frown.

"I heard him speaking about it." Bruce answered, neither confirming nor denying it. "He knows something about this though."

Claire watched as he disappeared behinds Bruce's shoulder, "He looks like he's leaving."

"Then we should be too." 

* * *

A/N: Hey, I'm hoping people enjoyed this first chapter. I love long chapters, but I can't write them for the life of me. Anyways, I have high hopes for this fic and I really need people to tell me what they like, what they don't like, and how you think I should fix it. I like suggestions. Also, I don't have a beta reader, so please expect some mistakes because I'm human too and can't catching every error.

I'm a bit nervous about people saying Bruce is OCC and I can't help but feel like he is. My idea of Bruce is awkward in the sense that as Batman, he is mostly all business but still has some of that spunk from his younger days when I write him as Bruce Wayne. My main goal for Bruce is seeing him as both of those two personalities on both occasions, but also remembering that he's human. I think Bruce Wayne wants to be labeled more than just a rich, flirtatious asshole who occasionally shows Gotham that he isn't so bad. I think Batman isn't as invincible and cold as he's made out to be as I've seen in other works. I want emphasis the connections he has with people he's known and will eventually get to know. I want to put him in different situations, so we can see how both Bruce and Batman react.

The character interactions are weird right now because I just jumped right in, but let's have our fingers crossed that it gets better. Well, until next time!

Please R&R!

Question of the chapter: Should Damian make an appearance? If so, do you think he'd get along with Claire from what you've seen from her? 


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: I do not own neither the Batman franchise nor its characters and/or settings. The only thing I own are my OCs and the plot to this story. Everything else belongs to DC.**_

This chapter has swearing in it.

* * *

Bruce, though his eyes were calculating like Batman's if anyone got close enough to see them, had delivered a very convincing performance of being in a drunken stupor. Of course after stepping on a couple of toes and nearly toppling over other couples with his dancing, Claire and Bruce excused themselves with Bruce draped over her shoulder.

The fresh air was welcomed when they stepped outside. The thin jacket over her shoulders wasn't enough to keep the chilled air out, but she welcomed the feeling with open arms. They hobbled down the stairs, Claire stopping on more than one occasion to get a better hold on Bruce. He was one hell of an actor because they'd almost fallen twice going down. The valet pulled up to the curb and traded her the keys, promptly taking Bruce from her.

"What about our suits?" she whispered, stepping into the fancy car they'd rode in, but this time their role were reversed. Claire shifted in the stiff leather seat as she slid the keys into the ignition, gripping the steering wheel tightly as the engine roared. "And where are we going? I can't drive something this fast, I'd probably crash it trying to trail after that kid."

Bruce situated himself in the passenger side and rolled up the window for more privacy, throwing a wave to the valet as he did. "Just drive, there's an entrance a few miles from here. We'll park the car a block away and go the rest of the way on foot. You'll be fine."

"And the car?" Claire asked, hesitantly pulling out of the line of other expensive vehicles parked in the half circle. She made her way onto the open street, glancing at the rear view mirror one second and out the side view the next. This wasn't her car, she personally would never purchase something so flashy to begin with, so she drove under the speed limit to avoid crashing. She didn't have money to spend on fancy, sports cars and she doubted her aunt did either. Why rich people couldn't or just chose not to buy practical cars escaped her.

"Alfred will pick it up later."

The drive wasn't very long rather drawn out with her going ten miles under the speed limit, but it was also a silent one. She didn't bother talking and just tried to focus on the road. Bruce, on the other hand was busy stripping off his jacket and undoing the bow around his neck almost eagerly.

"Here." He pointed to a relatively empty curb. There were two cars parked along it, both seemed to look expensive enough to not raise any suspicions if they parked next to them and in fact, the dark blue paint blended well into the night, reminding her of Batman.

They rolled to a stop in front of a sleek, grey car and Claire had never been a car person, but she couldn't help but to appreciate the attention to detail and the overall aesthetic of it all. In other words, cars were pretty damn hot. She could sort of see why car fanatics were turned on by them. "Alfred has a second set, so I'll take the keys."

Nodding, the engine died with a twist of her hand and she passed them off to Bruce before reaching down to take off her heels. Her feet were killing her. Shoes with Satan's horns on the bottom of them were never her style. Well, she didn't have a specific style, but heels were definitely not for her.

"What are you doing?" He frowned, eyeing her.

"What's it look like I'm doing?" she sat up, staring at the man. He didn't expect her to keep these shoes on, did he? "These shoes are uncomfortable and loud. It isn't like I'm going barefoot!" she groaned as she popped the last one off before reaching into the small backseat, fishing for her other shoes. "I snuck a pair of flats in the back because I had a feeling we'd be doing a lot of walking." Claire waved the new pair in a circular motion with a grin, "And, I guess I was right."

He didn't look impressed. Rolling her eyes, she pulled off her jacket and dangling earrings, stowing the sterling diamond covered earrings in what looked like a cup holder as Bruce got out of the car and walked to her side, opening the door. She threw the golden flats out first before taking his offered hand, and stepped into her more practical footwear. Locking the door, they took to the sidewalk with her hand tucked into his arm, and they walked the illuminated street with a comfortable pace.

"There's no one here." Claire snorted as her eyes roved the empty street.

"People could still be watching, so until we get there, we are like this."

Claire didn't know why she found this situation so funny. Maybe it was because she never imagined the revered Batman as paranoid. They entered the alley with Bruce looking over his shoulder more than once when they rounded the corner.

"How far down do we need to go?" she whispered, squinting to see.

"Behind the dumpster." He murmured, stopping to look at her. "Do you think you could move it?"

"Of course I can. I can manage this a lot better than being around those stuffy, high-nosed people you subject me to. Those long sessions with Miss Martian weren't wasted on shopping and talking about cute boys." Grinning, Claire un-looped their arms and rolled her shoulders, excitement gleaming in her eyes, "Bigger things are easier to move because they are harder to break. You have to focus more on the small stuff or else it'll get even smaller." she laughed, and pine needles trailed down her arm as she directed the flow into her palm. "You might want to move aside, Mr. Wayne."

With a tug of her hand, the dumpster jerked forward with a groan, but the space she'd made wasn't big enough for Bruce to get behind. And again, she collected the energy loosely, succeeding in removing their obstacle.

"I meant for you to move it quietly." he frowned and turned to the wall, pressing the tiles.

"Well, it's moved." she frowned, crossing her arms. Blue eyes met brown neither moved to go through the passage.

Their silent stare down was quite short when the bricks began to shift,"After you." Bruce said, catching the door before it shut.

With her chin high and dress fluttering, she marched forward, "I learn something new about you everytime I'm with you."

"And that is?"

"You aren't passive aggressive... at all." The entrance grew darker as the door slid closed, so she could only guess he was doing the thing with his eyebrow. It was something she'd seen all the vigilantly family do. Sure, when people were confused, raising an eyebrow was natural. There was no confusion when *they* did it though. Their version of cocking eyebrows was usually their way expressing how unimpressed they were and she hated that. " You work in the dark, I don't. I can't see at the moment but that doesn't mean I can't feel your judgemental eyes, so stop it."

She heard a snort and she felt a bump against her shoulder, and suddenly, there was light!

"Can you see me now, Miss Wright?" He smirked, stopping in front of her and bent over to match her height.

"Crystal, Mr. Wayne." she smiled back and breezed past him, her fingers twitching to flick him in the face was strong but she decided revenge was sweeter when he'd less expect it. When the time was right —obviously when he was closer to being Bruce rather than the silently brooding bat—, she'd make her move.

The walk lasted another minute before they were pulling on their suits. Claire didn't bother asking how they were here behind the dumpster, figuring it was probably just a Batman-thing to have secret tunnels and passages throughout the city.

"How are we going to find this guy?" she asked, running her bare hand across the black-fibered fabric stretched across her thigh. The suit was light, almost like a second layer of skin. This new outfit put her old one to shame with its thin, plated guards protecting her arms and legs. Her fingers touched the embroidered wings, designed to run and ruffle like the flames of a fire across her chest. A smile pulled at her lips. Highlights of a dark red ran down from the high collar all the way to the sides of her arms trailing her thighs into her boots that hugged her calves. It fit like a glove, much better than her previous suit that was closer to being considered a breakaway rather than the one piece it started as. She turned, subbing the silver tub as her mirror, giving herself a once over before turning to the already dressed Bat. Her chest puffed proudly, resembling the bold stance of the blood red phoenix centered against her chest. "He's probably got a good ten minutes ahead of us." she said, throwing the shawl-like cape over her shoulders and tossed the attached hood over her head to hid her hair.

"Tie your hair back. It's too long for it to hang out like that." Batman called, glancing at her before he turning his attention to sending the capsules back wherever they came from.

"Bruce, the guy." she repeated, combing her fingers through her hair. "His location. I'd like to know. You know I hate not knowing."

"He's being tracked." He said simply,

"Look, I can respect you being a man of few words and all, but can you please elaborate! I'm still new to all this stuff!"

"I placed a tracker on him when we were in the bathroom." He explained, sighing tiredly as his fingers ran across the screen projecting from his arm guard.

Claire drooped, puffing her cheeks in frustration. She'd just gotten it cut a few weeks ago! She tugged her hood off, inspecting the ends. She'd cut it back so it was an inch below her chin, but somewhere along the line, her hair managed to almost reach her shoulders. Claire was known for her poor personal grooming skills when it came down to having to deal with her hair or her nails. She hated people touching her hair and despised it even more when people touched her feet. Her aunt told her that long hair never really did her justice because her cheeks were fat. Claire agreed with her aunt about the hair and decided to plan a trip to the salon, but she'd chalk the fat cheeks up to the wonky reflection of the capsules. She frowned, patting her hair down in attempts of killing the heat-induced frizz as the tubes shot off into another passage door. She'd probably have to get another perm too.

"Well do you have a hair tie for me then?"

In her time spent in the superhero world, Claire had mention clearly that she could _not_ fly, on more than one occasion. This was practically her catchphrase because she was having to say it so often. And the times she'd attempted it always ended in a split lip or worse and then she'd have to go home icing her wrists from falling or wearing long clothes to cover her bruises from her aunt Jay. This was woman who'd raised her all nineteen years of her life Claire was forced to attempt lying to aka the woman who'd know if something was up the second she opened her mouth. Claire could only get hit with closing doors or fall down stairs a number of times before things started getting too fishy and risk her aunt becoming a freaking super sleuth trying to solve the mystery.

Now, she would have to explain why she was pumped with holes because, unlike the Bat, she wasn't equipped with a freaking grapple which made it ten times harder to get out of the way of bullets. Of course, the option of using her power became very limited when she felt her body get heavy after forty-five minutes of playing _dodge the bullet_ ,a game with small stuff in large numbers.

Claire's energy pulsed as her fist clenched, flattening the silver bullets suspended in the air. They fell to the ground like heavy rain, but she didn't stick around long enough to watch them as they dropped. The cocking of another gun sent her nerves into a frenzy and she was quick to fling herself away from the sound. She was crouched low as bullets cut their way through the stack of crates she'd landed behind, sending wood splintering to the floor. Being bait was not something she wanted to become good at. The alarm in her head was ringing, drowning her ability to think as it replaced common sense with fear. This was her fourth time dealing with them, and she wasn't doing it very well. The first few times had been much easier because of a certain blue-eyed, black haired billionaire cosplaying as a giant bat.

Claire crept to the edge with her back pressed to a crate as she peered over the side. "She isn't alone!" the man had bellowed before the room was silenced with a smack. "You let her get away _and_ you decide to damage my goods by shooting like a fucking blind man!"

"Sir, I'm sorry–"

"Tell it to someone who cares. Your apology isn't going to replace those crates and it sure as hell isn't going to replace my money." Another smack echoed in the warehouse. "This is an investment, my friend. Not only for money. I have put my neck on the line for this shit and because an idiot like you couldn't control himself, all my hard work turns to shit! Explain to me how I'm supposed to tell the people I have to answer to that I cost them half a million because my men couldn't handle a fucking girl that is half your damn size!"

Claire carefully slid to her knees and crawled to the other side of her shield. Her luck had ran out when it saw guns and now, her unplanned plan was out the window too. Her escape route was a dead end. The crates were stacked low enough for her to scale with her amateur parkour abilities, but she would be risking getting seen and probably shot and at the very least having a twisted ankle from the fall. More scenarios popped into her head, the next worse than the last. She shook her head free before giving the wall of drugs a second look.

There! A crate was missing at the bottom row. The narrow path was closer to the wall, and the space was so small she'd have to lay down to get through it.

"But the Bat–"

Claire was never good at reading atmospheres but she knew that they probably wanted some room to talk things out, and decided to do the polite thing and try to leave without being noticed. She reached the passage, and eased herself down on her side, sighing in relief when she saw her shoulders fit just barely. Sucking in, she paced her wiggling to avoid being crushed by the crates above her.

"Is here, and you can't see him!" she heard, the man's voice echoed through the tunnel. "Which means we are in a shitty place! This fucker will pick us off because he has the upper hand, but if you bring me that bitch, then you might make it out of here. And not in cuffs. You– go look behind there and see if you hit her."

The sound of heavy footsteps made her heart lurch and the alarms sounded in her head again once she realized her feet were still hanging out. She inched forward, and thrashed clumsily like a mouse caught in a rat trap as she felt him getting closer. With another squirm, her head poked out from beneath the pyramided crates and she let out a shaky breath. She was free less than a minute later and ran with her hand pressed to her ear, "Where are you?"

"On my way down. I've got my sample." He said, and she was relieved to hear his voice even if it was on the other side of the comm.

"Good." she forced a laugh as she leapt over a row of boxes barely managing to not crash. "It would be even better if we got the hell out of here, Bat."

"We will, Phoenix." His paused almost as if he were thinking which was a relief because that could only mean he was working on an escape plan. "After I get more answers, so stay away from the loading area–" His comm went silent, leaving little room for her to voice her opinion on the matter.

"Seriously?!"

Claire's nose burned at the distinct smell of sulfur she'd become acquainted with over the months, and she skidded to a halt as an explosion of fumes furrowed behind her. A hand flew to cover her nose and she knew without having to be told twice to avoid the smoke, even if Bruce meant it in a roundabout way. The smoke grenades were flammable and she couldn't guarantee that she could lower her stress to be around that source of fuel. If things really got out of hand, they wouldn't have to worry about getting a sample but about the building going down in flames. And that being said, she would leave Bruce to deal with the gunmen. It was the least he could do for putting her through all of that.

The gas spread further into the open room, and it wasn't too close to her, but its vicinity made Claire uncomfortable and forced her to move farther away. The channel was still open between the two of them and she couldn't help but feel bad for running while Bruce was on the other end fighting. She heard the grunts and groans and crashing and cursing and shooting from Bruce's end, and she was fairly certain he could hear her heavy breathing on his. She wasn't a runner, something he knew, but she was confident that he wasn't focused on her poor stamina, needing it for other pressing matters.

She'd let him have his fun, and started searching for an exit. The one they'd entered in was covered in the smoke and she couldn't risk going through it or even opening it because it would leave Bruce open to all those guns.

"Sorry to distract you from your fun and all, but we never really mentioned a plan of escape." she huffed. A red sign caught her eye and her legs ached as they carried her to the exit. The chains on the door didn't immediately send her enthusiasm out of the window as she gave them a harsh tug. They were old and rusted, so breaking them would be easy. "I found an emergency exit that I think leads to the alley. We can get out without being seen this way." she said, her hand trembling as she forced the pressure into the chains and one of the links snapped. "Hopefully there isn't another dumpster in front of the door because I could totally see these guys not keeping this place up to code. I wouldn't put it past them to block exists." There was no response from his end, but she knew he had heard her because he hadn't bothered turning off his line.

Reaching to touch the handle, she paused, her hand hovering. And, a shiver ran down her arms, forcing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand. Claire nearly twisted her ankle as she turn and splintered the wood bat against her forearm, the small reserve of concentration she had left cushioned the blow. The force burned her, and she reeled away clumsily, clenching her aching arm. She let out a wail, doubling over to avoid another strike. Her eyes burned with unshed tears as her hand grew hot against her arm despite it being above the layers of armor.

She jerked left, rolling away from the large man, somehow managing to get behind him. He spun, sputtering angrily, and rushed forward. Brown eyes raced with fear behind the hood, and she felt the familiar tingle drain through her, creeping into her hand. She let her arm fall limply to the side as her hand tightened into a fist, and adrenaline pumped its way into her veins as she sent her fist speeding forward. Her fist struck air, knocking her hood off as a rush of wind pulled at her hair, knocking the man back with brute force into the exit.

Her body hummed as she doubled over, panting. She felt a dribble down her nose that splattered against the floor, falling in rhythmical red patterns. Roughly, she ran the back of her gloved hand across her upper lip, and turned to go find Batman.

She found him minutes later with his hands gripping the lapels of one of the drug runners. The man, a moderate size, was dangling from his grasp, looking too scared to talk. She remembered him. He was the one controlling the moving. His face was swollen, and his hair had red touching from the crown of his head to his temples, but she knew it was him regardless. The scar cut into his ear told her so. She doubted the Bat's presence made him tremble like he was halfway through a seizure. The worst part was over. He'd already gotten a beating. Even though she knew that the man didn't _know_ Bruce, she was certain he was aware that the Batman never killed. So, hitting him some more would probably do the job.

A small rectangle was caught in the corner her eye as she made her way to the middle of the circle of unconscious men. She bent at the waist, minding her arm as she did, and retrieved the block and slid it into her boot before continuing to Bruce.

"He's hiding something." she said, her voice low as she a hand rested on his arm. "Not because of you. Someone is keeping him from talking." The man shook his head, scratching at his wrists.  
Claire blinked, trying to recall what he'd said earlier. Reaching for her boot, Claire flipped the small flip phone open and began to fiddle with the device. "It's his boss." she said, presenting Bruce the phone.

Satisfied, his grip dropped completely, letting the man crumple to the ground, amongst the heap.

"Master Bruce, it seems the police have arrived at the scene and are readily collecting the perpetrators as we speak." Alfred folded the cape neatly on his arms, "Also, the League has requested your presence tomorrow morning at a feasible time as I believe your schedule is empty for the day."

"Good job, Alfred. I'll leave everything else up to you." Bruce nodded to the older man, and passed Claire off to him. He reached into his belt, pulling out a tube filled a fourth of the way with a blue substance. "Also, I need this sent to the lab so I can analyze it and get a better idea of what we are dealing with." Handing the tube off to the man, Bruce turned on his heels and left, tugging his gloves off as he did.

He was a good ten feet away before Claire said anything because revenge was sweet. "He's limping, Alfred."

* * *

 _ **A/N: These chapters are going to get longer I swear. Hopefully because I'm on a summer break, I'll be able to update weekly. It's the beginning of the story and some things need to be bumped out, like Claire's background and her relationships with everyone, but I promise things will get more personal in the upcoming chapters.**_

I want to thank the few people who have reviewed and even though some of them are confusing and don't make much sense, you reading my story inspires me to keep writing. I'm a highly imaginative person, so I tend to write what I see because it plays out like a movie in my head. That being said, I feel that my writing can go off of its main points and I just ramble. Ha!

Anyways, stay tuned for the next chapter! Please R&R!

Question of the Chapter: Do you think canon Bruce is socially awkward? If so, can you explain why you think he is.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: I do not own neither the Batman franchise nor its characters and/or settings. The only thing I own are my OCs and the plot to this story. Everything else belongs to DC.**_

 _ **Warning: Mild swearing?**_

* * *

Claire was dead tired and didn't hesitate to call and say she wasn't coming in that day. Her arm seemed to double in size overnight, and when she'd removed the delicate wrappings Alfred had put on her, she nearly screamed. Her brown skin was dry, and looked stretched thin against the blood pooling beneath it. The bruise was already a deep red and it hurt to touch it, and moving it was both possible and painful.

She knew her aunt would be asking — sooner rather than later—, why she would be wearing long sleeves again in warm weather and those questions she couldn't even fathom an answer to. Sighing, she pulled herself from her sheet, leaving the wrap tangled on the bed as she dragged herself to the bathroom. Her aunt would never swallow the bullshit she'd spoon fed Holly.

She found the spare toothbrushes and a bottle of face wash she knew Holly wouldn't mind sharing. Clean teeth and a clean face was as good as she was going to get that morning, seeing that she was opting out of showering because she didn't have any clean clothes here and doubted Holly washed any of hers either. A fancy dress was much better than a dirtier one which meant she'd have to be extra careful when she brushed her teeth.

"You up?" the red haired woman poked her head through the door before letting herself in. "I bought breakfast."

Claire stifled a yawn with her hand before running it through her hair as she stepped out of the bathroom."And I shall eat, my sister."

Like a shadow, Claire slinked after her best friend with her newly recovered energy. They sat down in the kitchen in silence, shoveling food in their mouth almost like a competition until Holly slurped the last of her syrup off of her plate. "I won." she laughed, licking her fingers.

"I'm disabled, you ass." Claire snorted, chewing the last forkful of eggs in her mouth. "My arm is lamer than Kyle's ability to pick up girls."

"Damn." Holly took both plates, whisking them off to the sink to run water over them. "So, how the hell are you going to tell your aunt you broke your arm trying to split a wood board in half."

Claire didn't know what compelled her to tell her friend something so stupid, but the fact her friend was _that_ gullible to believe her almost made her facepalm. Well, at least she wasn't asking for more details. "First of all, my arm is far from broken. Let's just get that straight." she frowned, pushing away from the table. "Second of all, I won't have to tell her because she isn't supposed to be home for the next few days which gives this monstrosity on my arm plenty enough time to change colors like leaves in Fall. "

"If she's gonna be gone, why'd you spend the night here?" Claire cringed at the sound of metal scrapping against metal as the dishes clattered in the soapy water.

"She hasn't left yet." she yawned, slinking to the couch a few feet away. "Besides, your apartment was close to the gala, and I didn't want to ride the train that late. Plus, my aunt would have my head if I woke her up."

"So she knows you're here?" she heard from the kitchen.

Claire sank into the soft cushions, willingly handing herself over to the comfortable piece of furniture. She ran her hand over the blue corduroy arm as her eyes grew heavy. "Not really." she snorted tiredly, struggling to keep her eyes open. "But, I'm sure she can guess where I am if I didn't make it home." Her words trailed off near the end, the sound of her breathing drowning out Holly's response if the woman even bothered with one. Why was she so tired?

She felt a hand shake her roughly, forcing her awake.

"Claire. You need to get up, girl." Holly frowned, shaking her again. "It's a quarter till twelve and you can't sleep all day. And your phone is ringing too."

At the mention of her phone, she was up in an instant, and almost immediately regretted moving that fast as the blood rushed from her head. Hissing as her shin hit the coffee table with a heavy thud, she stumbled towards the room she'd been occupying. She shuddered when she snatched the phone up with her aching arm, answering the phone without bothering to look at who was calling.

"Hello?" she croaked, her mouth felt dry.

"Claire?" a man said, a man whose voice she couldn't recognize. Claire frowned and took the phone from her ear, waving Holly off as she poked her head through the door. The number was Bruce's, but she knew his voice was deeper and gruffer over the phone. Plus, he never called her during the day and if he did, he was just waking up. It was in the afternoon and she knew Alfred wouldn't let him sleep in this late.

"Um, yes? May I ask who's calling." She asked politely, glaring at Holly as she leapt over the queen sized bed and pulled her close to listen in.

"Why are you talking like that?" she mouthed, pressing her ear against the back of the phone.

"Move!" she hissed as she brought the phone to her chest, shrugging her off with a shake of her shoulder before turning her attention back to the man on the other end. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

"This is his son."

She blinked. That didn't sound like Tim. "His son?"

"Who's son?" Claire heard Holly echo.

"I'm assuming you know where headquarters are. Bruce is expecting you there within the hour. " the supposed son said, almost sounding bored.

"Headquarters?" she murmured having to scratch her head. Had she been to headquarters on her own? When was the last time she'd been there anyways? A week? Two?

"Bruce is in a meeting at the moment, so–"

"What? I thought he had the day off?" she interrupted, confusion pulling at her brows.

"He did. But he got called in last minute. That's why I'm calling you instead. Anyway, he needs you to be at HQ for another meeting. If you can't get there on your own, a zeta tube should be located within a five mile radius from your apartment."

With that, he hung up.

"Where's headquarters?" Holly asked, plopping down onto the bed nearly giving Claire a heart attack fifty years too early. "Want me to drive you? My mom bought me a new car, wanna give it a spin?"

"You know where the Wayne Tower is, Holls." she forced a laugh, praying that she sounded more convincing than she felt. "I'm sure everyone who's ever heard of Gotham has." It never hurt to secure a lie. "You don't have to drive all the way to Midtown. Honestly, if you could give me a ride to my house, I'd be solid. I can't show up wearing this." she said, pointing to her choice of dress. Of course, she wouldn't really be going to the office. But no way was she popping up at the Hall of Justice with no bra on. That would practically be giving Hal material to hit on her.

"You're right." Holly agreed, shifting to sit cross legged on the bed. She leaned forward, digging her elbow into her knee. "Let's get you some clothes."  
Hopping off the bed, Holly skipped out of the room with a wink only to return a minute later, jingling her keys.

Claire slid into her flats and found her wrap jacket peeking out from beneath the bed.

Holly was a terrible driver. Even in traffic. She had road rage coupled with the fact her mouth was dirtier than a truck driver. The usual ten minute drive to Claire's apartment was nearing fifteen and Holly decided she'd had enough sitting around. Holly was a patently very steers savvy for a rich girl, and Claire was certain her friend could rival Batman in the number of secret streets mapped in her head. She managed to speed through most of it with back roads, baffling Claire at how her car managed to fit on such tight spaces.

"Honey, is that you?" she heard as the door shut behind her. Her aunt waved from the living room. "I didn't here you come in last night. You should have told me you weren't coming back or at least called, I left the door unlocked and everything."

"It's me. And I completely forgot. Those people are so tiring and Holly's place was close by. Sorry I didn't call you though." Claire apologized, stealing a quick kiss on her cheek as she passed. "I've got to go in for work today but I'm running a little late. So, I'm grabbing some clothes and heading out."

"Do you know if you'll be staying at Holly's again?" Jayla asked, pushing off the couch. "Because if you are, please don't forget your keys again. You can't keep relying on the doorman when I'm not here."

Claire grinned sheepishly nearly to her room,"I promise I'll find my keys. You look nice by the way!" she laughed and shut her door as she tossed the jacket on the bed.

Kicking through the pile of clothes she'd neglected, Claire wormed her way to her dresser, pulling out a comfortable pair of fitted cargo pants and a random long sleeved shirt she was certain she slept in. It was long and clean which was good enough for her.

She was out the door in ten minutes, most of the time was spent on her trying to get out of her dress. She didn't want to risk breaking the zipper with her inability to keep her focus. She also didn't want to risk bleeding on the damned thing either because a nose bleed would probably ruin it — well, if red showed up on red. Plus, she would have been ready a few minutes earlier had she remembered a bra. But, once she was secure and dress-free, Claire hauled ass to the nearest tube.

"Recognized: Phoenix —B27." The voice welcomed, scanning her like she'd seen it do countless times before. The number thing was new, but it only meant she was officially a part of the whole hero business.

"M'gann!" Claire called, successfully gaining the attention of the green-skinned Martian.

"Claire, it's good to see you! You must be here for the meeting." M'gann smiled, floating over to her.

"Yeah, I guess I'm not the only one who got the call." she laughed, her gaze drifting over to the young speedster flickering in and out of focus further down the hall. "You know, we should really get together so you can teach me how to do that. All I know how to do is get nose bleeds and locked joints." M'gann made flying look easy and for Claire it was just the opposite. She still had scrapes and bruises to prove it too. Of course, the Martian had cultivated her powers from an earlier age and had other people's advice. All Claire had was an overly active imagination and about half a year of official practice under her belt. Everything else was breaking things from an early age.

"Sure thing! I'd be glad to help. This time, now that things are calmer now, we can work on more than just the basics. Do you remember the meditations I taught you that help with your concentration? I recall you struggling with that."

Claire nodded, scratching the back of her neck. "I try to do them every once in a while. Adjusting to work has been something and my night life is pretty hectic right now too. I tend to do it when I have trouble sleeping though. It really comes in handy, I wish I could make time to do it more often."

"Really? That's fantastic! I'm glad that it helps. I have a few more I could show you if you wa-"

"Recognized: Batman —02. Recognized: Nightwing —B01. Recognized: Robin —B20." the zeta tube whirled, its lights flashing as the three heroes stepped into the headquarters one after the other. The arrival of the three males drew the attention of the remaining few loitering outside the conference room and Claire, despite herself, couldn't help but grin.

Her figurative not-so partner-in-crime was dressed in full gear, resembling a miniature Bat in the way he held himself, but the only difference was both his build and stature in addition to him being way brighter.

Tim, or the Red Robin or just plain old Robin, found his spot next to her as Bruce took to gaining everyone's attention, his long cape dragging behind him as he did.

Though she was five years older than the boy and he was the better trained hero, the two bonded almost immediately. Maybe it was the boy's cleverness that drew her to him or maybe it was her personality that drew him to her. They just hit it off.

"Why aren't you dressed?" He whispered, staring straight ahead. Had his lips not been moving, he could have fooled anyone into thinking he was paying attention with the intense look of concentration on his face. "This isn't how you make a good first impression you know."

"First of all, I'll have you know that this isn't my first time being here. I've seen a couple of these guys here before." And that wasn't a complete lie. Her amount of contact with other heroes within the League was very limited. And some of the people here were people she'd never been introduced to. Sure, she'd heard about them, either on the news or from M'gann herself, but *he* didn't need to know that. "Plus, I was told to be here within the hour and that hour was almost over when I actually got the call. The Batcave isn't exactly one of the pit stops on the Zeta tub. So, you can go somewhere else with that. Especially coming from someone who was late."

"You consider a minute late?" He questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"If you ride the bus, you would know a minute is *way* too late." she snorted. "Are we going into the conference room or are we staying out here?"

"Probably out here. Too many people." All three of the friends turned to look at the man from nowhere. She forgot he came in with Batman and Robin which was an explanation in itself.

"Nightwing! You received the call too? I thought you were on leave." M'gann peered over Claire's shoulder to look that the man —Nightwing, she reminded herself. "If you're here, that means something this must be important then."

At that, Tim and Nightwing nodded before turning their attention to Bruce.

"Today's gathering will be brief. We have a lot of work to do with little time, so I won't repeat myself." His voice was deep with authority. This was the first time she'd heard him speak in such a manner and she couldn't help but look across the vast room to see if anyone else was surprised. They weren't. Their eyes were trained on the Bat with unwavering attention, and almost feeling out of place, Claire pulled at her sleeves as she directed her gaze back to Bruce. "Living quarters have yet to be supplied for those who lived at the previous base prior to its destruction. However, we've found a solution to our problem and we are taking immediate action. The League has purchased an academy as a temporary housing solution. As soon as we have the proper technology to maintain the privacy of the residents, we will proceed with allowing admissions." Claire nudged M'gann and the two girls shared a smile. "I understand living situations have become rather complicated, but things will be resolved soon. Financial support will also resume now that we have a clearer understanding of our funds with the repairs and debts paid on behalf of recent events. Monthly allowances will resume along with the mission board being posted. I assume you all are aware of your teams and their individual ranking, so please choose the appropriate missions in accordance with your capabilities." The Bat paused, and Claire could see the cogs in his head turning. "That'll be all. You are dismissed."

No one moved until the Bat moved, and everyone seemed to relax when he disappeared down the hall with his cape whipping behind him. Claire, among the three —four now—, to speak first."Who let him speak? I mean nothing good is bound to happen when the man who rarely talks has a lot to say. Don't you think?"

"I do find it odd he was chosen to speak out of all the other members." M'gann agreed, nodding.  
"Tim?"

"Well, it isn't like there's any other members around." Tim frowned and scratched at his chin.

"Maybe they're at another meeting?" M'gann peeped, looking to Claire.

"Maybe." she agreed, not bothering to voice her second question of why he wasn't there too. "Wanna go train?"

She wasn't familiar with the Hall of Justice. She'd only been there probably twice and both times were brief and lacked anything memorable. Well, besides the first time, she met the founders her first time. But even that was short lived because as soon as she was finished being introduced, she was pushed out into the hall away from the conference room, and was made to sit there for almost two hours. Claire, of course, was a curious person. She was also smart. Plus, she was so damned lazy, her mind was telling her yes but her body was telling her no. She listened to her body. Claire's relationship with her first mentor was budding and needed time to grow before she could start sneaking off. Her mind was made up, and her curiosity withered away, and she sat in one of the comfortable chairs along the wall. She fell asleep and that was her first trip. Her second was when Wonder Woman came to hand her over to Bruce, Batman at the time, and she was left to wait in her jet (that Claire, courtesy of her curiosity, discovered could become _invisible_ with the push of a button). Then, she was flown to the Wayne Manor where she too discovered the brooding, silent bat to be Bruce Wayne, a billionaire with a number of kids that Claire didn't know the exact number of. But, that explained how Robin didn't age. Maybe both trips were eventful. But, that didn't change the fact that M'gann and herself had been lost for a good forty-five minutes before they even found a practice room.

She'd have to pitch the idea of having a few 'You Are Here' maps installed around the base, so people wouldn't get lost because forty-five minutes was ridiculous and Claire just didn't have the patience just like she didn't have the concentration.

Claire's hand shot out, seizing the other woman's arm in a desperate attempt to steady herself.

"M'gann," she whimpered, she couldn't help her shaking. Flying was evil, and the moment her feet stopped touch the ground, she regretted starting.

"You are doing wonderful." the redhead laughed, working Claire's fingernails from her arm. "Remember to breath, and focus on something in your head. Focus on the sky." M'gann gave up on her arm, deciding a distraction would fair the girl much better. She directed a finely manicured finger upwards, pointing to the domed sky above them. "The sun and the clouds are floating with ease, so try and be like them. They are relaxed. You can't fly properly if you aren't comfortable just like you can't drive correctly if you're all stiff."

"Well, I can't do either of those," Claire snorted, her gaze was locked on to the sky. She studied one cloud in particular, it was thick like the tail of a rabbit and was a creamy white that reminded her of the icing on a red velvet cake.

Her stomach dropped, and she was quick to claw at M'gann who'd already lunged for her. "Claire!" the other woman exclaimed, and tugged her back up. "Weren't you focusing? What happened."

She opened her mouth to respond, but her stomach spoke for her, loud enough for the room to echo its responses. Grinning sheepishly, Claire let go of M'gann, scratching the back of her head.

"Oh my goodness -Claire!" The gargling of her stomach died mid-growl at being yelled at and Claire was slow to look at her.

"What?" she frowned, crossing her arms. M'gann's mouth gaped, forming a small circle. The circle of disbelief, as Claire dubbed it, was never a good sign, and her nerves shot up at the look in the Martian's eyes. "Oh my God! What's wrong?" Claire whipped around searching for the answer with wide eyes, struggling to ignore her angry stomach.

"You're flying." she heard, between the gurgling in her belly and her heart pounding her ears, just barely. Her stomach did a barrel roll, and she fell.

"So you flew?" Tim repeated, looking somewhat surprised. Of course, being raised by Batman practically made him a master in schooling his emotions, but the smile in his eyes didn't escape her. He was quick, but she was quicker when it came to the eyes. "Batman will be happy."

"I've never seen him happy. He'll probably tell me it was about time and go on about his day." Claire frowned, glancing at her two friends. It was strange hearing people besides herself in her head. Tim, on the other hand, didn't seem to mind. It was weird for her, but she hoped she would get used to it seeing how the three of them would be working together soon. "Plus, that wasn't flying. I floated and fell."

"Well, you did it by yourself, so you are a step closer to flying." M'gann corrected, swallowing a sip of her drink. "I'm surprised you didn't realize you let go. You went in circles and everything."

Tim snorted.

"I thought something was wrong." She said, glaring at Tim. "Sorry about your arm." Her brown eyes fell at the red markings along her pale forearm.

"It's not a problem." the other woman smiled, reaching over to pat her hand.

Claire grinned, nodding before turning her attention to the plate of food in front of her, stabbing her fork into a sliced piece of steak.

"Hey, Dick." Tim said aloud, waving. Both women looked at each other, surprised, before Claire peered over the edge of their booth with her fork hanging from her mouth, trying to be nosy. Tim scooted over, sliding his food with him, making room for the taller man as he breezed past her. "Claire, I don't think you've met Dick."

"Oh, I've met plenty." she frowned, settling back into her seat. Claire ignored the disapproving look M'gann threw her way, and crossed her legs, avoiding the kick Tim aimed at her left leg. It was always the left.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Thank you for the new follows and favorites. I appreciate your viewership and hope you enjoy my story. I'm not a fan of this chapter honestly. This was a filler, and I hate writing them, especially earlier as the story develops. But, I needed to set up an idea of what Claire is like outside of Bruce and when she is around people her age. Her relationships are interesting for me to write and I like seeing them.**_

 _ **I promise the next chapter will be more interesting I hope now that I've made Dick and Claire meet. I can't see Claire and Dick hitting it off. He reminds her too much of Bruce and later on, you'll see her constantly reminding him of that fact. Also, I hope Tim wasn't as OCC.**_

 _ **Next chapter, Babs will make an appearance and Dick will be too. Don't know if I'm going to make something of their relationship yet. Should I? That can be the question of the chapter.**_

 _ **Please R &R and I hope you have a pleasant week! Until next time. **_


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: I do not own neither the Batman franchise nor its characters and/or settings. The only thing I own are my OCs and the plot to this story. Everything else belongs to DC.**_

 _ **Warning: Mild swearing from Claire and mild violence.**_

* * *

"This isn't something I've seen before." Claire watched as the red-headed woman slid her finger across the projected screen. "I can't find a proper name for the stuff either. Everything seems to be varying from where you get it."

That made sense. A week had past since acquiring the sample from the warehouse and they had managed to secure four more samples, and each substance was special in its own way. Tim made a good call when he suggested getting more than just that one vial. The phone Claire had picked up came in handy and with Tim's skills, the group of heroes discovered the beginnings of a drug war in Gotham. Apparently there was more than one type of the nameless drug and yesterday, according to Gotham Times, it managed to tip the scale with a total of two hundred overdoses that month with another three dozen users comatose.  
"And the drug analysis?" Bruce eyed the screen a moment before turning to Barbara. His shoulders were taut as he sat, brooding in his chair.

"The key component in all five samples is Epinephrine. Everything else is muddled with a mixture of things that... that just don't go together. I couldn't read off everything properly." her brow wrinkled as she traced the screen with hardened eyes.

"Adrenaline?" Claire read the synopsis twice over before glancing at the other bodies that were equally as tense as she felt. This wasn't making sense. She took a step forward, setting down the box of pizza she'd been munching on, and moved closer to the projection. "I'm no chemist, so feel free to correct me if I'm wrong, but this compound really resembles cocaine." Her finger jabbed the screen, wavering at her touch as she slid it upwards. She squinted, leaning forward to get a better look. "Weird..."

"Which means what exactly?" the younger man frowned.

"If I'm right, exactly what I said." she pulled away, having to shake her head, giving up. Her attention retreated to the pizza she'd abandoned moments earlier. "I see why all of these people are dying. Cocaine is a hell of a stimulant in itself, but coupled with that much adrenaline, you might as well be putting a gun to your head and pulling the trigger." It sounded a lot more morbid now that she'd gone and said it, but it was the truth. Claire was baffled at what people put into their bodies without actually knowing what was in it. "That's as much as I know." she said, chewing around a mouth full of Hawaiian barbecue and a shrug of her shoulders.

Bruce stood, rubbing the spot between his eyes tiredly. He blinked twice before his eye focused, "We can continue this discussion tomorrow." He nodded to Barbara, walking towards the elevator with long strides and patted her shoulder as he passed,"Alfred will drive you home."

When Bruce was Batman, there was very little room to argue when all things were said and done. Claire was quick to catch the flicker of disapproval in the woman's eyes when green meet brown. Dick was gone by the time Claire bothered looking at the panel he'd been leaning against. With a roll of her eyes, she stuffed the crust into her mouth and trudged to elevator, bumping shoulders with the red haired beauty playfully.

"You should be happy he's giving us a break." Claire grinned, munching the soft crust. "We'll be back in here in a few hours begging for sleep. Enjoy it while you can because that big brain of yours won't work right if you don't have enough energy. I like it when you're awake and not grouchy." the elevator doors dinged, and the two women stepped inside. "As your friend, I'm telling you, you'll be single forever if you think it's okay to go around with panda eyes." She managed a laugh out of the older woman, and Claire sealed the deal with a piece of pizza as an offering.

"You staying the night again?" Tim asked, coming to stand beside Claire as she waved them off. He watched as Alfred and Barbara drove out of the gates with mild interest and turned to the short haired girl as the car disappeared down the street.

"Of course." Claire snorted, dropping her hand. "Why? Want me to leave you here with the brooding bat and his cyborg Dick? Because I totally can."

"Still haven't found your keys." He murmured plainly, not looking very amused in her choice of words.

"Haven't even started looking." she conceded, and followed Tim, retreating from the chill nipping at her bare feet.

Fifteen minutes later she was asleep in the bed she'd claimed two days earlier. Her head was throbbing and colored splotches played behind her heavy eyelids, forcing her awake. She jolted when she heard something clatter to the floor, but couldn't bring herself to be bothered with it. Both her mind and body were hung up on sleep. She slept for what felt like five minutes, but the bright clock on her phone told her it had been almost three hours since she and Tim went to their rooms.

She wormed her way out of the covers, practically gliding to the bathroom attached to the room, twisting the knob that summoned cold water into her palms. She blinked away any droplets of water caught along her eyelashes. She sucked in a breath, her eyes clenched shut as the throbbing turned into pounding. Her eyes raced behind closed lids before they snapped open, her pupils dilating. Everything went silent. The beating in her head was gone and all that was left was the dripping of water and the heaving of her chest.

Her mind soared, images of the data Barbara had compiled raced in her head, and her hands couldn't sit still. It was itching at her to understand.

Short limbs took long, silent strides out of her room and into the dark hall. Claire wasn't used to the Manor enough for her to walk around freely, especially at night, but luck was on her side as the guest room she'd been occupying was on the first floor. Her strong strides turned into small steps as she groped the wall praying for discretion. She eventually found her way to the study, and descended into the cave barefoot with her mind tingling.

The lights were already on as the elevator door slid open, and she wasn't too eager to find out who had turned them on. Out of everyone, she hoped it was Alfred.

"Bruce?" she heard herself say, spotting the man hunched over a medical bench. Apparently, he'd gotten the same idea. Judging from the wrinkles in his shirt and the wildness in his hair, he couldn't sleep either.

"What are you doing down here?" He asked, not bothering to look at her.

"I could ask you the same." she grinned, wanting to lighten his mood. He was no fun when he was in the Caves. "But, by the looks of it, we're pretty much in the same boat." He stared at her blankly before looking away once more. "Can't sleep. We both can't sleep, Bruce." she clarified, but he didn look like he cared.

She crept closer, peering over his shoulder curiously. His attention was directed into a microscope as he observed the slide beneath it intently. He pulled away, jotting something down on a notepad before going back to the microscope. Claire frowned, and moved towards the pad, taking it in her hands to read. She moved to sit, but found no chair in the open space. Feeling rather lazy, she waved her hand with a small surge of pressure directed from her palm to her fingers, summoning the chair from across the room. It rolled to a stop, bumping Bruce's stoll as it did, and Claire smiled sheepishly when he looked at her, at least this time it had a big more feeling to it even if the look was an irritated one.

She settled into the vacant spot next to him, folding her legs as she read through the notepad.  
Claire didn't know how long they'd been down there, shoulders hunched over the desk, but it must have been long enough for people to question where they were. Alfred came down with a tray of food coupled with Tim and Dick trailing out of the elevator after him.

The room was tense and Claire was no longer comfortable in her seat. The glance she spared Bruce told her he was no better, and almost instantly, she regretted telling him. Her theory didn't even make much sense when she'd said it, but the more test they'd ran, the more things started coming together. They had been looking for all the wrong things.

"Master Bruce?" Alfred was the first to speak. The silence was heavy on her shoulders and Claire just wanted to sleep. Her mind was sickly satisfied with her newly acquired knowledge, and now she should be able to sleep, right? The churning in her stomach would go away.

She flinched when a hand touch her shoulder. It was Tim. "Claire, what's wrong? You don't look so good."

Claire swallowed. She bite her lip, pulled at her earlobe, and even snagged her hair in her hands, trying to relax. Nothing was working. She looked to Bruce, catching his eyes with her own, asking him if they should tell them.

He blinked, his face grim, and nodded. Apparently understanding her.

She cleared her throat, and pushed away from the table. "We've been doing tests." Her voice was rough almost unsure, the two of them didn't speak for a good minute after finding out and it felt like an eternity. Her fingers caught the baggy shirt she was wearing, tugging the ends. Her mind buzzed at the thought of the blue vial. Claire was regretting a lot of things that morning. Because the things they saw, it _wasn't_ right. She glanced at Bruce once more before continuing, "That drug is a formula... a concentrated formula. It was made by combining a shit ton of chemical mixtures —which is why Barbara was having a hard time deciphering it. And, honestly speaking, I was going in circles with the stuff she'd already decoded. But, we weren't focusing on the right thing." she paused, why was this hard for her to say? When she said it to Bruce, everything came out easily. Hell, she even had a smile on her lips when she told him.

"Which was?" Dick frowned, stepping forward. She froze when he looked at her.

"Natural ingredients. That shit is made up of chemicals and natural ingredients. We didn't focus on the natural sources because we thought our samples were contaminated. The poor packaging and distribution was what stirred us off." she ran her hand through her hair. She stared at them, first at Tim then to Dick and Alfred before finally landing on Bruce. "When I say natural ingredients, I mean they are literally drawn from the source. Directly." Alfred's eyes narrowed. He understood. "They are using human parts as a compound. In each sample, something is different. Some of them are using blood, some are using plasma... Some are using harvested parts."

"Shit! Are you sure?" she heard someone whisper before they asked again, this time louder. "How can you be sure? What do you even know about this."

"I've been floating through majors for nearly eleven years, biochemistry is one. And, basic biology can tell you what you see under a microscope are human cells floating in a sea of chemical unbalance." she said plainly, turning to Dick. "I'm not a chemist. And, I never finished that course, so don't consider me to be a biochemist either. But, I can tell you that whatever that stuff is, it shuts down the body. The more it's ingested, the faster it kills you. It destroys pain receptors and acts as a numbing agent with all of that adrenaline. Even I can tell you your body isn't made to absorb another person's proteins to that extent."

There was silence again. No one spoke. Maybe everyone was trying to process what was said and maybe everyone was thinking the same thing about what wasn't. They, one way or another, knew the answer.

It was a tense morning in the Manor and Claire couldn't stand it. After the small meeting, everyone retreated upstairs for breakfast —though she wasn't sure if she could stomach any despite her calmer exterior. Bruce, however, stayed in the caves, still hunched over. Alfred left him breakfast so no one would say anything and they knew the older man would check on him periodically.

She ate quickly and retreated to her room. She cleaned and dressed even quicker before high tailing it out of the expensive Mansion, thanking Alfred on her way out. She hailed a taxi once she was a good distance from the home. Her stomach was still churning, food didn't help either and it seemed like it was against the idea of her getting any better.

People were crazy. Insane even. Claire wasn't sure if she was even allowed to talk about other people, but it didn't matter. The damage was done and now, she and the others would be left to clean up the mess.

The drive seemed to drag on and her taxi driver wasn't the talkative type. She could appreciate that and didn't bother trying to start a conversation either. The only time they spoke when he request the cabfare and her saying thank you. The sight of the stairs to her apartment complex was welcoming, and she could somewhat feel her stomach settling. Claire hurried up the steps, foregoing the mailbox on her way to elevator and into her shared apartment.

"Damn." she frowned, she forgot to look for her keys. Her eyes darted to the end of the hall, checking to see if anyone was coming before she palmed the door handle, sending a surge of pressure into her hand. "Yes!" she grinned, Claire lost her keys enough times for her to get comfortable with opening the door with her powers. Of course, in the beginning, things didn't go smoothly and on more than one occasion, the gears into the locks would get jammed and she would be forced to call the superintendent to un-jam it.

She wasn't sure what she was expecting when she got there. It was dark and her nose twitched at the speculation of gathering dust. She kicked off her shoes before moving through the apartment with ease this time and pulled the curtains apart, inviting the light into the gray feeling apartment. Clear skies were rare in Gotham, she might as well take advantage of it. She might as well take advantage of a lot of things while she was alone.

"No pants." she decided, and reached for the belt holding them up. She worked her legs free, and tossed the black jeans onto one of the recliners with her foot. "Maybe food," she murmured, waving her hand flimsy to the kitchen. Her stomach knotted painfully, "No food."

She fell onto the red couch face first, snuggling her check against the arm. She sighed and shut her eyes. She couldn't eat. She couldn't get naked. So, she could try to sleep. She wasn't in the mood to socialize —that was something she realized on the way home— because she would feel the need to talk about _it_. Claire had no one she could think that would be able to handle that type of information even if she were to be hypothetically speaking. She'd told the others and they seemed equally disturbed. She couldn't tell Holly because she wouldn't take her seriously and pass it off as some type of sick joke. Her aunt... her aunt wouldn't understand.

Would she?

Claire never attempted speaking to her about things like that. Things that bothered her. She usually left that to Holly. Her aunt, more like a mother, was never a personal person. The affection she showed her was comforting in the sense that she could depend on her academically rather than emotionally. Claire never understood why she could never ask her aunt for advice about normal things. There was always a strange feeling on her tongue and she could never find the words to begin discussing her problems. It didn't feel natural. School was really the only common ground they had, and even that brought trouble to the table. She wouldn't tell her aunt.

She wouldn't tell her. She'd call her, but wouldn't tell. It was best to separate her private life from her night life.

She dug into her cardigan pocket and fished out the large phone, her fingers eager to find her aunt's number.

The phone rang and she picked up almost immediately.

"I've been waiting for you to call me. It's been a week and all I get is a text." the woman's voice brought a smile to her face despite her aunt's scolding tone. "I must have left ten messages on the answering machine."

"Sorry Aunt Jay. I've been busy with work." she grimaced, Claire knew she wouldn't be upset for long. "How have you been? I know how much you hate conferences."

"I've been better. I was jet lagged for the first few days and my plane had to touch down because of storm warnings, so Harrison and I were late to the actual thing." her aunt laughed, and Claire's ears perked at the sound of another voice muffled in the background. She sat up quickly, the turning in her stomach seemed to go still at the voice. "But, besides that, everything was fine. "

"You and Harrison, huh?" Claire was certain her aunt was dating the man. For some reason she felt the need to hide that from her, but from the way her aunt spoke about him, Claire knew he was more than just an acquaintance. Plus, whenever Harrison came around, the man became a bumbling fool. She didn't know him personally, but Regina (her aunt's TA) had told her he was usually tight-lipped and was by the book. Plus, her glaring at him most of the times he came around probably scared him. It wasn't like she could hand her aunt over to just anyone.

"There are other people, Claire." her aunt sighed, sounding tired. "Annoying, but there. The both of us felt like we needed to get away from it all, so we snuck off to find some place to eat."

"So y'all are on a date." Claire clarified.

"It's not a date, Claire."

"That sounds like a date to me, aunt Jay." Granted she'd never been on one, Claire had heard plenty from Holly and seen it numerous times in everyday life to classify the outing as a date. Plus, thinking back, her aunt had been a little too lenient and a little too well dressed before she left. Claire often claimed she had an eye for detail, and even though the meeting was a week ago, she knew her aunt. And with that being said, had it been any other day, Jayla would have rained all types of hell on Claire for not calling to let her know where she was. Plus, a few, short sentences would never fly if her aunt was gone for more than two days. It was a date. And her aunt must really like this guy if she's not showing her crazier, anything less than professional side. "Well, I won't hold you long. I know Harrison is eager to finally have you to himself."

"I'm hanging up." Her aunt snorted. And she did after saying a quick 'goodbye' and a soft 'I love you'.

Claire fell back onto the couch, depositing her phone on the floor with a soft thud cushioned by the carpet.  
She didn't manage to ask when she was coming back. In the midst of her teasing, she'd forgotten to ask. The silence was strange and Claire shrunk herself into a ball, her fingers busily picking at the stray pieces of lent dotting the soft surface.

She missed her aunt. Much more now than ever. It was strange for her to be away for more than a few days, and it was starting to get to Claire. She needed some type of distraction. She couldn't stand coming home to emptiness. Claire was too used to coming in and listening to her aunt rant about work or even talk about something new she'd learned from one of her students. It was unsettling coming into their home with no one to share with. The trip originally was a four day conference, but was turning into a seven day one with poor weather and impromptu planning.

And so, she resorted to sleeping at the Manor when her aunt didn't come home like she'd assured her she would. And even that turned to complete hell, when she decided to drop that bombshell. The decent atmosphere she'd worked so hard to create within her three days of residency had turned to ice at the mention of the discovery.

Her eyes slipped closed, but she wasn't tired and she couldn't find the energy to open them.

 _People were sick. They were also terrifying. And her mind couldn't help but wonder how things like this even happened. Where people even things like those. They had to steal them. There was no way a person would willingly give up a functioning limb for something so reckless, something so dangerous. Didn't people have any morals?_

 _The men in the warehouse faded into her mind, all of them guarding something so inhumane like their lives depended on it. The man she'd stolen the phone from, his threats made her heart thunder in her chest. Her body grew hot and the hairs stood on the back of her neck at the wisps of smoke creep beneath her feet and pull her towards the yells and curses and gunshots echoing in her ears. The world spun as she watched herself run blindly, as she watched the bat come down on her, as she watched Bruce slam the man's head down into the concrete floor, successfully silencing his perverse promises he aimed towards her._

 _Her chest heaved and constricted as the man turned towards her with a brooding stature and empty eyes. She took a step back, feeling a crunch beneath her feet, suddenly wanting to get away. Claire watched with wide eyes as a tremor ran through her and her other self emerged, heading to the faux Batman._

 _"Don't," she whispered, the world slowed and she couldn't look away as she rotated slowly. The closer her other self got the more she felt sick. "Don't." she repeated, and she couldn't bring herself to look as she got closer to him, his face grew more menacing by the second until he no longer resembled Bruce or even Batman. She wanted to scream. Her shoulders trembled and whatever force was pulling her to him snapped and she nearly fell when she felt it suddenly disappear. She turned on her heel, scrambling to get away._

 _Claire's limbs were heavy and a sudden tug at her collar sent her reeling backwards, dragging her roughly as she thrashed blindly. She swung and kicked at the thinning air until her heart stopped beating in her ears as a dark figure loomed over her with her mouth gaping and eyes wide. A thin sliver of silver shine out in the darkness, and a the man's face split into a horrifying grin, revealing a mouthful of teeth with some colored red. The needle point grew closer as the man's shoulders shook with laughter, unshed tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, eager to fall. It felt like she was being forced into the earth like someone had split it apart and she was being pulled into a grave that wasn't hers._

 _She wanted shake off the imposter. Claire wanted to scream, to hit him. She wanted to get away. She wanted to stop burning. She wanted it all to fucking stop._

 _And it did._

"Claire!" It was Tim. It had to be Tim. "Shit!"

Her eyes flew open and her hand trembled at the rush running down her arm. "Oh my God." she whispered, her powers dying at the sight of Tim struggling with his suit. Tim tore off his cape, and stomped at it almost angrily, successfully putting out the flame eating at the black material.

"Jesus, Claire!" He hissed, reaching out to grab her. She couldn't risk him burning himself, she still felt warm, and so she did the only thing she could think of and pulled away.

* * *

 _ **A/N: This felt really dramatic haha. I think l was aiming for that and this is just leading up to bigger things. I wanted to write more Barbara, but I feel like I need to hold off on that.**_

 _ **We'll see more of her in the next few chapters. I just needed to see how I would place her and right now, she isn't Batgirl. She also isn't crippled. Yet, I think. You'll find out what happened to Babs and Dick and it does have something to do with her not being Batgirl.**_

 _ **Does anyone else feel like my writing has changed? I don't know if it did, but I think I like it. Claire's point of view is more descriptive, I feel. There is a lot happening here and not much has been explained, but with time things will sense. There isn't much Blaire happening right now, but you'll see something soon. I don't want to rush things. Also, we're getting into Claire's background so stay tuned for a little angst. It won't be overly angsty, I promise.**_

 _ **Also, I want to thank everyone who has reviewed my story and followed and add it to your favorites. I sincerely appreciate your support and when I see reviews, your comments inspire me to continue writing this story.**_

 _ **Please R &R and have a beautiful week, y'all! Until next time. **_


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: I do not own neither the Batman franchise nor its characters and/or settings. The only thing I own are my OCs and the plot to this story. Everything else belongs to DC.**_

 _ **Warning: Swearing and sexual innuendos.**_

* * *

"Just meet me downstairs when you're ready," He paused, the look in his eyes deceived how passive he was trying to make himself out to be. He was upset and Claire could understand. His stared for a solid minute before turning briskly on his heel, "You might want to put some pants on before you go."

Her eyes bulged, and she was scrambling for a pillow to cover her legs, missing the red flush build at the back of his neck.

* * *

She was a over his shoulder in a flash and her stomach cringed as the earth rushed to meet her halfway. She hit the floor with a groan, but she rolled over, standing much faster than her previous attempts in hitting him. Claire was much better at defense.

She ran forward, this time trying a different approach, and scraped her knees as she dropped into a crouch and spun. Her extended leg struck air and she almost toppled over as her skin buzzed and she barely managed to roll out of the way and onto her feet as Bruce's foot came down the spot she had been occupying. She couldn't rely on her powers because that was against the rules and it wouldn't have done her any good to try and sneak them anyway. There was nothing to be moved since they had cleared a large area of the Cave so they could spar. And, the fact that she was a bit antsy about her accident with Tim that left her feeling cautious about her powers. It would take a few days for her to get a grip on her telekinesis again, so she felt stuck.

Her body was extremely energized (mostly because she hadn't forcibly expended any of it with her powers) and she was nearly bouncing off the walls. How long had she felt like this? It was never natural. Most times, her energy was caffeine-induced and even then, her little high never lasted long. She was always tired because of her 'gift'.

"You said you were on– Bruce!" She hissed, ducking the palm aimed at her face. Was her trying to slap box her? "Defense, Bruce! Defense. You are on defense!" With each word came another strike from the man, and finally having enough, her shot out and caught his left elbow and she tugged it downward as her other hand tightened into a fist. Her punch didn't make it very far. Claire dug her thumb into his elbow, urging him to let go of her fist. They stopped and stared at each other, Claire couldn't control her irritation. She could practically feel the stuff rolling off of her in waves and it only grew when she saw the smile ghosting on the asshole's mouth. "Let go." She growled, baring her teeth. Technically speaking, she was used to this type of treatment, but her forced spares with Bruce were annoyingly rough. Claire couldn't see herself normalizing getting thrown across rooms like she was a paper plane.

He didn't do it as fast as she would have liked him to. But, eventually, he did. Claire glared at him as she rubbed her fist. Her fingers were sore. Her lip curled when she looked at him, brown eyes staring at his elbow. She hoped she hurt him as much as he'd hurt her as unlikely as that was, a girl could dream.  
She had come down here to cheer him up and cure her boredom, she was basically killing two birds with one stone. It didn't do anyone any good to have Bruce brooding during the day because when night came around, he'd brood then too, and there is only some much Claire can take. Their meeting had not gone too well.

Barbara looked like she was going to throw up when she heard the news. The fair-skinned woman seemed to go stark white. Her unspoken distress didn't get past anyone, Claire was just the only one comfortable to do something about it. She had stood by her and held her hand tight. Not bothering to look at her when she'd felt her eyes staring at the side of her head. She only squeezed her hand and Claire could only hope Barbara understood.

The feelings everyone had were shared equally, and that build up of tension remain unaddressed. In the short time of her knowing the closely knitted vigilante family, Claire knew that the elephant in the room would continue to be ignored.

She was right, of course. And, she'd spent enough time watching them to know that Bruce would be the main one brooding in it too. He was the only one to stay behind in the Cave. Tim fairing much better than both Dick and Barbara, who looked like she was done with the case.

It was decided that Tim and Dick would remain on surveillance and Claire was to work with Barbara when the received further information. It was simpler said than done, but no one objected. It would have done them no good. They would just have to wait and watch until there was movement. Things had been very quiet lately. The more they went after the drugs, the hard it was to come by the next target. The faceless organization was treading carefully. So much so that each opportunity they had with them was not to be wasted according to Bruce, who's been frustrated probably more than anyone else. Claire noticed he was hitting harder when it came down to fighting.

"Thanks, Alfred." she grinned up at the man, accepting the glass of iced tea with both of her hands. She drank the sweetened tea eagerly, her glass was almost empty, but it was worth it in the end because at least now her tongue wasn't stuck to the top of her mouth.

"Not a problem, Miss Davis. It is the least I could do," he paused a moment, leaning forward to refill her glass. "I appreciate you keeping him company. God knows what he'd try to preoccupy himself with should he be left alone." Alfred shook his head and glanced over at the shirtless man, whose attention had been caught by one of the computer screens. "I'm afraid this case has absorbed most of him and leaves very little time for him to be Bruce Wayne."

"Claire, Alfred. Call me, Claire." she corrected, no one really referred to her as anything other than her first name. "So I guess leaves you to handle it, huh?" Claire snorted, following the butler's gaze over the rim of her glass.

"Indeed." He nodded, turning back to her. "Would you like to join us for dinner? Master Bruce has been keeping you quite busy, I see. You must be starved."

"Oh I'm fine!" Claire laughed, she had been eating up all the food for the past few days during her stay. With Alfred's permission of course.

She was hungry but she knew when she was intruding. Plus, Bruce was in a mood that would put everyone else in one (specifically Dick) and would ruin her food. "I'm sure the boys would be upset if I ate all the food again." It wasn't like anyone ate it anyways. The thought was bitter, but it was true. All three of them seemed to develop bad eating habits.

"Both young masters have left. There is plenty of room for you at the table with and without them here. The dinner table is much more lively with you around. All three of them constantly neglect eating on a regular bases and if you don't remind them or even force them to eat, they would surely starve. I doubt they will be eating tonight. I've secured enough steaks in case they would like some later."

"Are you sure the boys won't mind." she blinked, to hell with the boys, meat was worth putting up with Bruce. Even if she would have to do it alone.

"I don't believe you'll have to worry yourself with those two. Master Tim has gone off somewhere."

"And, Dick?" Claire asked, she couldn't help being nosy, it was a part of her.

"Seeing Miss Gordon off, I suppose. Those two disappeared around the same."

She couldn't say she was surprised. Well, not really surprised, the on-again off-again couple found comfort in each other quite often these days and the only reaction from Claire was an arch of her eyebrow. She already knew how this would end. Barbara would call her and ask to come over, Claire of course would say yes, and Barbara wouldn't cry (she refused to but always looked like she was on the verge of it, like she really really wanted to) and ranted until she felt better. There would be a shit ton of food, so if they got hungry in between her crying they had a variety of food to choose from. Her eyes floated to the screen projected over the computer, she couldn't read it and she didn't bother with squinting.

"I order something and it is arriving soon, so I have to go pick it up. I'll return soon and get dinner started right away. Feel free to return up stairs when you wish, he might be awhile." Alfred's lip turned into a smirk, eyeing the other man before turning to her and nodding to her as he left her side.

He was right. There was no point in hanging around. But, she just sank further into her chair, cradling her sweaty head with her interlocked fingers. She waved Alfred goodbye, placing the the pitcher of sweetened tea off to the side for herself because Bruce was on punishment and didn't deserve the delicious drink she called, "Heaven's Nectar".

Eventually, time became a thing of the past and she couldn't tell how long they had been down there. No one had come down which meant everyone was still out and about. Claire now understands why Tim doesn't spend as much time down in the Caves as much as Dick and Bruce. This was too boring. "Aren't you tired of being cooped up in here?" she called, gathering some hair into a pigtail at the side of her hair. Claire snorted at the computer screen reflection of her. Her poor attempt made her look childish, especially now that she was beginning to see how fat her cheeks looked. Claire leaned forward, pouting made it even worse! She fell back, staring blankly at the ceiling and listened to him type.

She wound up staying the night again.

* * *

Everything about this situation made Claire uncomfortable. From the shoes to the hair to the dress, everything seemed to scream 'Fuck Me'. Claire should have borrowed the one Barbara offered. She could work with it being a little tight. But this, this was something completely different.

Not only was it suffocatingly tight, it was revealing too. The tiny black dress fell an inch above the middle of her thighs, revealing most if not all of her back. There was a fair share of cleavage (or the lack thereof) for the world to see. It was needless to say that Claire would be freezing her ass off if they couldn't manage to get inside. She would rather be at a party filled with a thousand Sabrina Wildes than to endure the embarrassment she was somewhat willingly subjecting herself to. It was too late to change her mind.

Babs insured her that both of them would get in, but Claire's lack of ID and breast told her otherwise. The closer they got to the door, the more her mind created scenarios. Her first undercover stunt and she was sweating bullets.

"Calm down." Barbara said under her breath, smiling at the camera as she snapped a photo of the two of them. Had she done this before? She was shockingly composed and the red dress cut to mid thigh seemed to fit her and she glided in the stilettos with a practiced grace that looked down right natural.

Claire nodded, working the fabric against her hips down to smooth a non-existent wrinkle to keep her hands busy. She posed for another picture, relaxing slightly. They would get in. They had to get in. The mantra played through her head over and over as she forced denial out of her mind, drowning out the scenarios that doubted their success.

Sultry was never a word to describe Claire. She was chubby cheeked for crying out loud and wore her hair in pigtails half the time. She was cute because of her babyish face (thank God she grew into her forehead) but never could she be considered sultry.

She felt a jab in her ribs, forcing her attention away from her thoughts and onto the burly bald headed bouncer standing before her, staring her down with his arms crossed over his belly.

"Your ID, he needs your ID." Barbara said, enunciating slowly. Babs flipped her hair over her shoulder, smiling, "You'll have to forgive her. English isn't her first language." Claire glanced between the two of them before her mind clicked, finally understanding English, and pulled out the fake piece of plastic identification Tim printed out an hour earlier.

Barbara was really good at acting.

She handed the man her "ID", smiling the same smile as she had in the picture when he looked up at her a questionable look in his eyes. He gave her back her ID and opened the door, the music booming behind it echoed in the streets as he waved them in, and only when that door shut did Claire let go off the breath she'd been holding. Lying was never something she was good at but that didn't matter now because they were inside and the clock hadn't even struck twelve.

* * *

 **Ten Hours Earlier**  
"What's up, Tim?" Claire grinned, happy to see her friend as she slid into the chair across the boy. Tim had finally gone and saved the table -after the two argued about it. He was promising they wouldn't be long, but she refused to stand up and drink coffee like she was some hipster at a poetry slam- in the far back as she got her coffee because rush hour started around this time, "You literally never come here." Half an hour ago, Tim called her down to talk. He didn't look as enthusiastic as she would have like but he at least gave her a smile. "And, shouldn't you be in school -what would the tabloids say if they found you out? They would tear into Bruce so fast." Claire teased. If he wouldn't make it fun, she would sure as hell try. There were enough cutthroat, drier than toast people in the Wayne Manor as it is, she didn't need Tim being one too. He was perfectly soft and unburnt as He was.

"I just came to give you a heads up about tonight." he shrugged, her eyes followed his to her drink. She tipped the cup to him and grinned when he took it. He probably wouldn't like it. Her eyes gleaned when he brought the cup to his mouth as she urged him mentally to drink. "We'll be heading out earlier than usual tonight. Somebody needed to let you know because I can't keep breaking into your house when your asleep. You needed a strong alarm by the- oh my God!" he sputtered, his face scrunching at the taste and he slid her back her coffee.

"What?" she tilted her head, summoning every ounce of innocence she still managed to possess. "Too black?"

"How can you drink that," his eyes were wide and Claire couldn't help but laugh at him. "I thought you liked sweet stuff, I feel like that crap numbed my taste buds."

"I do like sweets. I put like ten packets in." she shrugged, the lady usually gave her a canister of sugar and let her go to town on it because she came in so often. "Black and sweet, just like me." she snorted, watching as Tim rolled his eyes trying to fight his own grin.

"You were pretty bitter yesterday."

"Seasons change and people do too, Tim."

"Sure they do."

"Whatever." Claire stood, glancing at the fresh wave of people started to flow through the door. "Let's head back, you really don't want to be in here when it gets crowded. You would be surprised how many people are crazy for coffee in the freaking afternoon." she tucked lengthy strands of hair behind her ear and habitually blew the fly away from her eyes before grabbing her coffee. "We can go back to the office and grab some cheddar bagels. Or, we could stay here and watch the drama unfold."

"Huh?" Tim gave her a quizzical look.

"Pick your poison." she laughed. "I'm giving you options here. It doesn't look like you're going to school today and I would rather have you away from paparazzi and prying eyes. What better place would that be other than the Manor? Plus, Alfred and Bruce would give me an earful about letting you roam around if someone saw Bruce Wayne's son out in public with the intern and decided to snap a picture."

They relocated to the vast building across the street with a few free bagels Claire managed to get out of Maria, her connection.

* * *

"Sorry!" she had to yell over the pulsing of the music, but the woman didn't seem to care about having her foot stabbed and kept dancing.

Barbara had gone to the bar, leaving her to fend for herself in the sea of twisting, sweaty bodies. She was shoved further in the crowd getting farther away from her redheaded friend. A shiver ran down her spine when a cold hand touched her bare back,and she twisted to see who it was.

"You look lost." a man said over the music, his wide smile showed a nice looking set of teeth. "First time at a club, huh?"

"Something like that." Claire yelled, running a hand across her slicked hair that could no longer be considered a bob. "I'm not used to these types of things."

The green eyed man leaned forward, the bristles of his beard scrapped her cheek gently, "Really?"

"Yeah." she murmured and fought the urge to pull away. Having someone breath down your neck both literally and figuratively was very uncomfortable. Her eyes searched the crowd over his shoulder, searching for any sign of Dick. It was a long shot to even hope he was within the same vicinity of her by the way the swarm of people were moving. "I lost my friend. She's much more social than I am."

"I can be your friend." She felt his lips brush her ear and the little voice in the back off her head screamed danger as goosebumps spread across her arms at the sudden reaction. "I can help you relax too." His grip tightened, pulling her so close that their were hips touched. He swayed with the music and brought her along with him.

She was prepared for this. She didn't expect it to happen so soon, but she knew people were watching. The comm tucked discreetly in her ear was on which meant everyone was listening. Claire needed to play it cool. This wasn't one of Bruce's galas. This wasn't a night out. This was a mission.

* * *

 **  
Five Hours Earlier**  
"Did you hear about Lisa Ross?" Holly asked suddenly, throwing a dress off to the side. She turned, brought the dress to Claire's front before discarding it in the 'no-pile' that accumulated on the floor and went back to digging through her spacious closet.

"Nope, what about her? I thought she transferred schools." Claire shrugged, she recalled the name but she couldn't see a face behind it.

"You haven't heard?! How could you not know - oh my gosh! There you are - come to mommy!" Holly yelped, dropping to her knees.

Holly was the number one gossip at the University. She had eyes and ears practically everywhere. It was no surprise Holly knew anything and practically everything about anyone's business. She told Claire it was her job to know and Claire never judged her nosiness just like Holly never judged hers. The only difference between the two of them was that Claire liked to know and make someone else's problems her problems, Holly just liked to know and let anyone curious enough to know too.

"Of course not." Claire took a step back, not liking how Holly was holding the plum colored pump, like she was about to toss it. Holly had a tendency of throwing things and not looking to see where it landed. Claire didn't want to be it. "I hear everything from you, remember? Last time Alexis told me about a rumor you got made at both of us and didn't speak to us for days!"

"Where is your sister?" Holly cooed.

"Holly!" Claire groaned, this conversation was as good as done. "Fine. Since you're so preoccupied with uniting a broken family, I'll just call someone and ask what the hell happened. Text me when you're finished."

Claire took one step towards the before she heard a huff from the red head, "Wait! I'll tell you. Don't go!" Holly whined, "Here, shoe is gone. My baby is gone."  
Claire stifled a grin and turned back to the closet with a straight face. Holly threw the pump, it hit a wall with a heavy thud, and waggled her fingers at her. "See. Empty hands." she flashed her palms, staring up at Claire with a grin. "Now help me up."

Claire tugged the girl up with ease, and they kicked through the litter of clothes thrown on the floor -courtesy of Holly-, and fell onto the bed.

"So what happened?" Claire shifted, sitting cross legged.

"A lot." Holly mimicked her as she moved to face Claire. "Apparently, Lisa was into clubbing and stuff. She and her friends went to this club so much that they became known there."

"Okay…" Claire leaned forward and propped her head in her palm, digging her elbows into her knees. "So they went clubbing. What's wrong with that? Did someone post a video or something online? I heard the school she was trying to get into was really tough on stuff like that. One bad thing will ruin it all."

"Well, it wasn't just one bad thing..." Holly frowned, pausing to run a hand through her hair. "OK, this is how I heard it, I'm not saying this is like one hundred percent true and all, but this what we know - or we think we know." Claire felt bad all of a sudden. "So, they are well-known and stuff, and one night they went out and did the usual I guess. Lisa and her friends went out, they drank, danced, the whole package. Well, sometime during that night, Brianna, her friend, was ready to go but couldn't find Lisa. Y'know the whole, if we come together, let the other one know if you're about to leaving thing - yeah, so she went to let Lisa know. Lisa wasn't in the club."

"Where was she?" Claire asked and leaned forward, her eyebrows knitted in confusion and annoyance. Holly was a good storyteller, leaving people in suspense and shit.

"Brianna didn't know. She wound up leaving because she couldn't find her." Holly shrugged, and propped her weight on her hands behind her.

"That's a crappy thing to do."

"Well, you do a ton of scrappy things when you're drunk." she said passively, shrugging again. "And, honestly, I don't blame her. Girl wanted to go home. She did say she spent another hour looking for her before she left. Lisa sometimes left without her and figured she did that and didn't think much of it afterwards. Nothing was unusual about that. Anyways, she didn't come to school the next day. Which, again, Lisa did once or twice when she was drunk. Brianna didn't find it odd and just went about her day. She did, however, go to her apartment to see if she was okay because it wasn't like her to not call."

"Was she there?"

"Yeah. But she from what I heard, she went home with some guy and stuff but there was no guy with her. She was by herself and when Brianna found her, she had an IV in her arm."

"An IV? What the hell did she have that for?" Claire frowned.

"Don't know. This is were things get shaky. Apparently, she was into drugs. Not like any heavy hitters, but like the light stuff. She smoked weed and took a little ecstasy and maybe popped a few shrooms. Stuff like that." She paused again, looking as if she was thinking. "Anyways, Brianna found her with the IV and Lisa wasn't responding. The stuff she'd been using was H2O and it came through that club they always went to. Brianna said whenever they were offered, Lisa would always tell her not to take it."

"So, Lisa knew what it did?" Holly shrugged. Claire blinked and her mind buzzed as it worked to process the story. "And you said there was a guy involved? What about it - what happened to him?"

"That's the iffy part. We don't know if there was actually a guy. There was a man's coat in her apartment and they found a couple of tubes of it in his pocket." Holly uncrossed her legs, stretching for a moment before folding them beneath her. "There was no ID, no thing at all. It was just the drugs. Brianna called the police once she got the IV out and Lisa was hospitalized."

"So she's alive?" Claire perked, She needed to talk with Bruce. He would know what to do.

"Just barely. Brianna said she was pretty sick. She hasn't woken up since then."

"When did this happen?!" Claire gapped, she thought it was something recent.

"Almost two weeks ago." Holly folded her arms defensively. "That's why I asked if you had heard anything."

* * *

Claire saw Barbara talking at the bar. She managed to catch her eye and nod, and everything seemed to go in slow motion when she passed her as the man pulled her towards the back by her hand. His grip was tight and though her hands were clammy, she was certain she wouldn't be able to wiggle free without force. And force was something she couldn't risk using so soon. That was not the plan. She needed to go through with it just like everyone else involved did.

They stopped in front of a door and he turned, smiling at her before knocking on the worn wood. The door seemed out of place, but she knew it would lead away from prying eyes and ears. Not the best position to be in, but she had four extra pair listening in just in case. Claire was not scared. She knew if Babs has been chosen, she would be strong and not give it away. She would go through with it. And that was exactly what Claire planned to do. Suck it up and just roll with it.

Claire glanced over her shoulder, looking at the bar where Barbara sat. She saw Dick leaning down and whispering something into her ear. Barbara stiffened and she saw her twist in her seat but Claire was pulled forward and ushered into the room before she could see what happened next.

* * *

 _ **A/N: This is a longer chapter. A lot is happening here, again, but I just think jumping into the story was a result of that. Also, please forgive me if there are any mistakes, I don't have a beta, so I do all the editing myself. Next chapter will be a bit more clear, things are going to progress with Bruce and Claire. Sort of… I'll tell you things get a bit physical, but nothing too bad.**_

 _ **That's all from me and I'll see you next week! Please don't forget to R &R! Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, you keep me writing! I have considered scrapping this story once or twice but the few of you reviewing keep me wanting to write it.**_

 _ **Until next time!**_


End file.
